


Chocolate & Raspberries

by akuma_river



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-03
Updated: 2008-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuma_river/pseuds/akuma_river
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snapshot of life after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate & Raspberries

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a gift fic exchange in February of 2008.
> 
> I recall it being well received.

**Title:** Chocolate  & Raspberries  
 **Author:** akuma_river  
 **Parings:** Snape/Harry/Draco  
 **Rating:** Adult Mature  
 **Word Count:** About 3, 700  
 **Warnings:** bondage, kinks,  & inappropriate use of chocolate  
 **Summary:** A snapshot of life after the war.  
 **Prompt:** bottom!Harry, post-war AU, kink, bondage, Snape/Harry/Draco  
 **Beta:** venturous  & florahart (who came in as a pinch beta hitter.)  
 **Disclaimer:** The story herewith is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limit to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
 **A/N:** Valentine's Day Gift Fic for artisticentropy [Chocolate & Raspberries hpvalensmut entry](http://community.livejournal.com/hpvalensmut/99172.html)

 

Harry was in heaven.

He was so warm and toasty, hidden under the duvet, curled in a tight little ball.

It was the sort of perfect, deep, want-it-to-last-forever snuggle that makes a cold morning bearable and leaves a person hoping to never wake up. He was perfectly content, and had the mindset that nothing was going to disturb him from his sleep.

Unfortunately for Harry, someone had another plan for him, and his nesting under the warm, fluffy duvet was not part of the plan.

With one mighty yank of the duvet, Harry was forced to reconsider his plans for the morning as he met the frigid cold air of the dungeons.

Harry was not pleased, not at all, and he made this point quite clear, screeching: "It's coooold!"

Not yet coherent, he scurried from one side of the bed to the other, patting the bed, groping for any sign of the missing duvet. Unable to find it and refusing to wake up, he curled up tightly into a small ball and covered his form with the pillows.

Unfortunately, this feeble protection against the cold air was taken from him as well and Harry's small curled-up form started to shake and shiver. Even though, he was freezing, Harry refused to acknowledge that he had to wake up. In his drowsy mindset, Harry had the notion that the annoying nuisances would eventually go away, once they realized that he was not going to wake up, and then he could go back to sleep.

This, however, was not what his tormentors had in mind. It didn't matter that to them that Harry was as naked as the day he was born and that nothing was protecting him from the cold dungeon air. Nor did they care that he had little goosebumps pimpling all across his skin. 

No, none of that mattered to them. What did matter, however, was getting Potter awake.

Harry may not have known the precise details of the evil plan his tortures wanted to implement, he did though, have an idea and he was adamant in refusing to play along. Harry was tired and cranky and he wanted to go back to sleep. He was peacefully basking in the early morning respite, until he was rudely disturbed by individuals he would not name. Harry was no longer safely ensconced under the duvet and he didn't have the feeble protection of the pillows either. Harry, though, was stubborn to a fault when he made up his mind and his mind was made up. He was not going to wake up! 

He was going to go back to bed and if he had to do that with no coverings, then that was fine. His body was getting used to the chilly air anyways, it's not like they can do anything else to him. Or so Harry thought.

One moment Harry was curled up, like a little hairless Sphynx kitten, the next he was stretched out across the bed and tied down by invisible, magical, bonds.

Now, although, Harry could be a lethargic and deep sleeper, even the sleeping dead would notice being stretched and bound upon their bed similar to the rack.

Giving up on the pretense of still being asleep, Harry blinked open his myopic eyes. Gazing outward in the darkness of the candlelit room he could only see two fuzzy forms standing on either side of the bed. One of the figures slowly sauntered closer to the bed and seemed to be carrying some sort of roundish or oblong object.

As the figure came closer, the blurriness decreased and the features of the figure became more distinct. The blurry beige-like contour of the figure became lithe alabaster muscles as well as the white halo around the top became icy-blonde hair. The object the figure was carrying turned out to be some sort of metallic vaselike object. The flesh between the figure's legs clearly defined the ice-blonde a male.

The blonde male slowly eased up onto the bed, and calmly sat himself down on top of Harry's thighs.

Harry was vexed to realize, when he lifted his head and met blurred blue eyes that he couldn't talk. The spell which bound him gagged him as well.

Malfoy smirked at Harry's apparent frustration, and turned to face the other observer who had remained at the other side of the bed. As Harry turned his face to gaze at the dark, silent figure, Harry could see that a type of nonverbal communication was taking place as the dark figure had made a nodding motion. Soon, thereafter, Malfoy made his move.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy lifting up the vessel and make a tilting motion. Quickly switching his gaze from the other figure to Malfoy, Harry watched as he poured out a dark substance onto his vulnerable flesh.

A hot, wet, viscous substance splashed onto Harry's stomach. Arching his head and bowing his back he tried to scream, but the gag muffled it. Harry in retaliation uttered loudly into the gag what was supposed to be a colorful, vehement, string of anatomically-impossible invectives, all was for naught, however, as the gag transformed his screams into muffled mumblings.

Malfoy smirk's widened at Harry's hysterics and slowly drawled, "Potter, calm yourself! It's not acid, only chocolate."

Harry threw an indignant look towards Malfoy and sulked. He had no right to tell him to calm down. He wasn't the one who was rudely awakened and tied down on the bed, he wasn't the one who had boiling hot chocolate poured down on his sensitive stomach. It did too bloody well feel like acid, Harry thought as he pouted.

The chocolate was cooling down, and the pain was tapering off. It felt weird though. As the chocolate cooled, it shrunk, pulling at the fine hairs and bits of his skin.

Just as Harry was getting used to the uncomfortable and weird feeling, more melted chocolate was poured on his skin; a good amount slid down his ribs into a puddle on the bed.

Malfoy didn't seem to care though, since he just kept pouring chocolate onto Harry like he was an ice cream sundae. He lavished the molten chocolate up and down Harry's body, until every single square inch of Harry's torso was covered in the sticky stuff. 

It was hot, gooey, and everywhere. The dribbling chocolate ran down his sides and under his back, until Harry concluded that the sheets were ruined and that his entire body was going to be covered in chocolate. He found he wasn't too far off the mark when Malfoy scooted down and off Harry's spread-out legs and raised the vessel over the highly sensitive skin of Harry's pleasure zone.

Harry, who had otherwise been moaning rather quietly under this assault, started to actively resist his captivity. He twisted and turned his head, bucking his body up and down, his gag muffling many screams of no; and he turned pleading eyes towards the only other figure in the room. If it hurt that much just having that melted chocolate poured onto his chest, he hated to think how much it would burn his penis and testes.

Malfoy in response to Harry's actions swiveled his head to look at the hovering nearby figure.

"Professor?" Malfoy asked with a hesitant tone.

A nod and Malfoy tipped the vessel over. 

It burned at first; the chocolate was hot and it flowed like molten lava. Malfoy dribbled it over the head of Harry's penis and along the shaft to where it met his crotch. Along with the pain that flashed through his mind, Harry had the inane thought that the congealed chocolate was going to be a bitch to get out of his sparse hair.

Like before, eventually, the pain passed as the chocolate cooled down and started to become more of a sluggish viscous liquid than a river of chocolate. 

Breathing heavily, Harry turned his head and faced the unmoving figure once more. If Harry weren't gagged, a string of vehement, ancestor-disparaging remarks would have spewed forth from his mouth. Neither of torturers moved to remove his gag, thus, Harry was forced to remain with only his dagger-impaling glares as weapons. 

Malfoy, was plainly enjoying this little torture session a little too much.

With a wide smirk on his face Malfoy spoke, "Now, now, little Potter, be happy. You're being drenched in hot chocolate, and about to be eaten up."

Harry was unsure to which _little Potter_ he was referring to, but took exception to it anyway. 

Harry laid there, bound by a spell with his arms and legs tied with invisible magic ropes to non-existent magic bedposts. Malfoy was sitting in between his legs so it's not like he could try to bump him off his body. He was not enjoying this and was quickly becoming pissed off, and top it off he wasn't able to voice his objections. 

Did that matter to his two torturers? His two supposed lovers? Oh no, this was just another one of their games in which he was the mouse and they were the cats!

He was _always_ the little toy that they wound up and played with until it broke and he passed out completely exhausted. This time, though, he was really not enjoying it, and they both had to know that.

He hated having icky stuff poured on him and soaking in on him, and the mess, oh the mess it left, he hated it all and they _knew_ that! Harry blamed his distaste for messiness on the training in cleaning he was given by his obsessive, compulsive, clean-freak Aunt Petunia. Oh, if only she could see him now. He imagined she would have a heart attack.

The two sorry excuses, who considered themselves his lovers, had about two seconds to change this disgusting failure of a porno foreplay misadventure or else. What would constitute "or else" was unknown to him at the moment, but he was sure he could come up with something mind-scarringly horrible. He knew he could, he just needed the right incentive, and he was nearly there. 

They knew what he liked. He wanted pleasure and he was most definitely not feeling any pleasure at the moment. 

Perhaps his lovers figured out he was near his boiling point; for one moment he was near to the point of biting through the gag to shriek at the two idiots and the next all thoughts vanished from his mind. _God, Merlin, whomever, thank you for Slytherin cunning and their pleasurable sexual deviancies._

At that moment, Draco Malfoy was proving once and for all that he did have self-preservation instincts, as he was lavishing himself upon 'Little Potter.'

The previously murderous aura that had surrounded Harry was gone like lightning and was replaced with an amendable and pliable one. 

While Harry's mind was busy melting, courtesy of Malfoy's tongue, the other previously by-standing individual came up and joined the two on the bed. Harry noticed none of this as he was too self-absorbed in his pleasure caused by Malfoy's wondrous Slytherin tongue.

Harry only became aware of the other's presence when he felt odd little objects plopping onto his torso. He swore he even felt the little objects sinking through the chocolate mass that was on his chest and stomach. That, though, was only a little tidbit to his mind; he was instead more, wholly, focused on what Malfoy's tongue and teeth were doing to his chocolate-coated cock. 

Malfoy was, at the moment, licking, nibbling, and biting, all around Harry's penis. His tongue and teeth would scrape up and down the shaft once in a while, pulling away with bits and pieces of the now somewhat-hardened chocolate, but he mostly stayed on his favorite area, the head. Harry loved how Malfoy was nibbling on the head of his cock as if it was the most wonderful dessert he had ever eaten. It was heaven to feel the teeth lightly biting around the curve of the head, around and around, over and over again. He loved the bites and nibbles, not to mention when the tongue would scoop up the chocolate and soothe the little red areas.

In his mind Harry was gibbering away, babbling nonsensical words and utterances, as he was still gagged. His body was spasmodically twitching, turning, and twisting, pulling at his bonds and causing the split chocolate to embed itself deeper into the sheets and his back.

It was only when Malfoy abruptly back and halted his delicious torture that Harry was able to finally be able to think. Words that resounded through his mind to describe his livid displeasure were broken off mid-thought by the vicious grin and lust-filled eyes that were staring into his own upon Snape's face. Somehow, someway, Harry knew that all of this was his idea, and that Harry was going to be their little toy in this game for a very long time. The realization of how much longer this little dalliance into foodie games caused Harry to emit an audible gulp and for a cold sweat to break out on his skin.

Harry's gaze drifted away from Snape's eyes and to the faint scar on his neck. It was a physical reminder of the laceration that nearly ended his life and it was one of the most favorite parts of Snape's body, besides his cock. Harry loved to caress the soft skin with his tongue and nibble on it. It was not just a scar; it was the corporal embodiment of Snape's conviction and character. Harry liked to think of it as a symbol of their love. 

Snape opened his mouth and spoke with that velvety, husky voice that made Harry's heart skip, his breath quicken, and his knees weaken. Harry swore that voice alone could make him come, though he never mentioned it to Snape; Merlin knew what torture Harry would go through if Snape were to decide to prove it! 

"Draco," Snape drawled, "bring me more chocolate and raspberries."

Harry didn't notice when Malfoy moved to follow the order, his eyes were on Snape as were Snape's on his. 

During the stretch of time that Malfoy was gone, Snape's eyes made a long slow perusal of Harry's bound body from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes.

The weight of Snape's eyes coursing down his body felt to Harry like a physical touch. His body was tingling in anticipation, and what he wanted at that moment, more than anything, was for Snape to touch him, to touch his body in that gliding caress that his eyes spoke of.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his eyes dilated further, his fingers clenched, his toes curled, his face perspired, and his body subsequently tensed and relaxed. His body felt like it was on fire and he was very aroused; Harry wanted to be buggered and he wanted to buggered right now.

A roguish smirk lit upon Snape's face, and Harry knew that Snape knew what he wanted. 

Harry watched Snape's eyes to see his next move, to see if he would do what he wanted and needed. Snape lifted up a hand, and Harry's eyes glued themselves to follow the movement of the hand as it drifted slowly and ever so closely to Harry's body. As the hand came closer to his body, closer to actually touching him, Harry eyes met Snape's own. His breathing became shorter and quicker as he gazed into Snape's eyes, the want for him voicing itself through his salacious-filled eyes.

Just as Harry felt Snape's hand descend to those last millimeters above his erect chocolate-drenched nipples, teasing him with the static energy existing in the in-between of the touch, Malfoy came through the door, and Snape's hand flew back his side.

Harry hastily shifted his head to glare at Malfoy for the awful timing. Malfoy didn't even make a pause in his step at the glare. He scurried back to the bed, handed the items to Snape, and resumed his last position.

Before Harry could ask what was going to happen and where those raspberries and hot chocolate was going to end up, Snape handed the bowl of melted chocolate back to Malfoy, and the next thing Harry knew a sticky hand was sticking itself into a very personal and private area.

It's an extremely odd feeling to have melted chocolate shoved up your bum. It wasn't painful, like the chocolate that was poured onto his body, but it was sticky, felt icky and odd. It was uncomfortable more than anything. After a while, though, it started to feel delightful. Especially since the gunk that was stuck up his rump was warm this time, unlike how all the other times it felt like ice was thrust up in there. 

This by comparison didn't feel that bad, just awkward and strange. It was odd to see Snape pelting down raspberries upon his chest and stomach like he was a pastry chef and Harry was the dish.

A glance down showed that it was Malfoy who his hand up his arse, stretching his rectum and playing with Harry's prostate.

Harry quickly began to feel that he was on the pinnacle of paradisiacal pleasure. He was at a point of nirvanaic apathy to his surrounding as long his pleasure continued uninterrupted. Nothing, not even the vague feeling of Snape dragging raspberries through the lake of chocolate and eating them, could disturb his meditation of carnality.

Once again another impending orgasm was thwarted by his two torturers as all lascivious activities were halted. 

Snape was unaffected to the change and continued to dip and eat the raspberries; he even fed a few to Malfoy and licked up the dripping chocolate that fell on his chin.

Harry was infuriated and felt more frustrated in that moment than any other he could remember. In retaliation, Harry decided to make his displeasure known by bucking and twisting his body, in order to disturb the dining taking place on his stomach.

Malfoy, ever the cunning Slytherin, put an end to his struggles by grabbing hold of his sensitive cock.

_Damn Slytherins._

In the interim of Harry experiencing the molestation of his chocolate covered organ, Snape and Malfoy had switched positions.

Taking Malfoy's place, Snape moved himself into a position to where he had the full monty view of Harry's sphincter. Harry was vaguely aware of this, but his attention was more focused on Malfoy pouring more chocolate on his penis and his gloriously tightly squeezing twisting hand.

Thus it came a shock to Harry when he suddenly in simultaneous motions, found a cock in his arse and an arse on his cock.

The last coherent thought that Harry had before his brain started mumbling gibberish was somewhere along the lines of, _Glory be, Hallelujah. I'm finally getting buggered._

The immense gratification, that Harry felt as he was finally getting the buggering he so desperately wanted, was equivalently equal to the feeling of buggering Draco. Every pleasurable nuance he felt was doubled; he was getting the best of both worlds, the bottom and the top. 

Usually the air would be filled with Harry's mewing and screams of pleasure, but since he was gagged and Severus and Draco were always quiet, the only sounds echoing through-out the bedroom was the cacophony of slapping skin and grunts here and there.

There were brief pauses in the thrusts, every once in a while, as Draco would scoop up raspberries and feed them to Severus. 

Already wound up as he was, it didn't take too long for mind eclipsing orgasm to grasp hold of Harry and for one breath he wished that this moment, this completeness, would last forever.

Directly following Harry's orgasm, he felt Severus unload his own inside him and then felt the strong clenching walls of Draco's arse; he briefly felt another pithy burst of pleasure filter through him.

Draco collapsed onto him shortly thereafter, crushing the chocolate and raspberries on his chest and sliding from the center of his chest off slightly to the side.

Draco panted into Harry's ear, his breath slightly blowing his hair.

Severus, in his typical Slytherin debonair elegancy, did not collapse himself onto Harry's chest. He, instead, nonchalantly extricated himself from within Harry and a flash of pain went through Harry's arse to his spine.

Severus kissed his forehead in apology and laid himself down alongside Harry, lightly caressing one hand over Draco's spine before settling it to rest over Harry's heart.

No one moved except to shift their positions so as to be comfortable and rest for a while.

Even if Harry wasn't bound to the bed in his position, he didn't think he could muster the will, nor the strength to move anything anywhere. He was just too exhausted. 

He had only woken up a short while ago, from another long night of playful activities, and now these two insatiable Slytherins had gone and worn him out again.

Sleep sounded delightful to his body and it didn't matter that it would be an wet and gooey sleep, all that mattered to him now, was sleep.

Draco, apparently tired of being in his awkward position lifted himself up and off Harry's cock, and laid himself down on the other side Harry. After a moment, Draco pulled out the gag and ran his hand through Harry's hair, kissed Harry and then laid his head down on Harry's shoulder. He then placed his hand over Harry's heart and laid it over Severus'.

Severus, not to be outdone, retracted his hand, lifted himself up and plucked a squashed chocolate-covered raspberry from one of the many still lying on Harry's stomach. He then placed it in his mouth and kissed Harry deeply. He pulled back and once more placed a kiss upon Harry's forehead; before laying his head down on Harry's other shoulder, and link his hand with Draco's over Harry's heart.

Harry chewed softly on the raspberry in his mouth and swallowed it down, savoring the gift for what it was.

Lifting his head to Harry's ear Draco softly whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day Potter."

Harry smiled and closed his eyes. He never thought his greasy old git of a Potions master and his dreaded arch rival could be such romantic fools.

Still, he wished they would've at least had the decency to untie him and clean up the mess, until he realized that they probably had another plan in the works to celebrate this day.

Smiling softly, knowing that he was loved and appreciated, Harry fell quietly asleep next to his lovers, the holders of his heart.

~ fin ~

Happy Valentine's Day.


End file.
